A/N: Hiya! 'Herr' means 'mister' in Norwegian, 'pappa' is 'father' and 'min Herre' means 'my Lord'.

I'm so very sorry if this chapter seems rushed in any ways. But I promise, I'm not one of those 'boy-sees-girl-talks-to-her-for-five-minutes-then-ditches-his-girlfriend-just-to-be-with-the-other-one'-writers. Thanks.

Read and review!

[2]

When Elsa was little, her pappa - King Agnar - had presented her with a book. A book of fairytales for her to read and learn from. And that book held a fable about a swan. This swan was beautifully delicate, and blissful, with feathers as soft and white as an angel's wings, always happily playing with her friends and family, and was highly respected among her common species.

But one day, the swan discovered a long and pitch black feather beneath her left wing. She was terrorized, and fiercely tried to keep it unknown for the rest of the swans. She was certain to be punished if they were to find out that she was different from them. The swan prayed for it to vanish, but still, the dark feathers continued to grow, expanding under her wings, and in the end, it became futile for her to even attempt suppressing it for any longer. When the others exposed her secret, they blindly feared and cast out the black swan, purely driven by horror.

The swan escaped from home, but in the end, she learned to accept the dark feathers, to cherish and appreciate them, and she came back. Elsa found it quite amazing how strikingly similar the story was to hers and had compared her own situation countless times to it. It soothed her, in a way. There was a small delight in feeling connected to something so lovely and precious. Something once as isolated as her.

She tried, she tried, but it was impossible to stop thinking of it.

Her very own soldiers, her own people, had turned against her without thinking twice. Though, of course Elsa understood why. They had been frightened by the unknown. But still...

Elsa closed the book for a moment, and took a deep breath.

I am not allowed to feel this way, Elsa irritably thought to herself. Anna has returned to my life. Our relationship is salvaged. I'm salvaged. Healed -

Once again, her gloomy, inner monologue was simply cut short by a male voice, far, far away. Elsa blinked in surprise, and lifted her gaze to meet his round, chestnut brown eyes.

Kristoff.

"Greetings," he uttered tonelessly. "How're you doin'?"

What happened to 'your Highness'? Elsa thought. At least his shoulders seemed a bit looser than the last time he'd paid her a visit.

"She's still asleep," she said quickly, her eyelids still fluttering slightly from the sudden interruption. "Anna, I mean."

Kristoff opened his mouth, about to speak, but Elsa was already one step ahead of him.

"Yes, please do." She quietly nodded towards the timbered chair.

Elsa wasn't having breakfast. She'd skipped that. In her hands, she was holding the fable book. She'd been in the middle of reading when Kristoff had entered the room. "How did it go yesterday?"

Kristoff sat down, pulled off his hat and mittens and put them carelessly on the table surface. Elsa could not help but look at his hands, which were notably large and rough, no doubt from all the ice harvesting.

"Went fine," Kristoff replied, clearly more comfortable than he'd been the day before. "My family were as extreme as ever."

Elsa giggled. "What did they do?"

"For starters; planning our wedding, discussing with Anna how many kids we're having. Nothing new," he said, chuckling when thinking of it. "They also made us a personal song. Would love to sing it to you, but... Pretty coarse lyrics."

"You can save the song," Elsa said. "But I would like to know when and if you and my sister will get married. To plan the ceremony."

Kristoff's eyes widened. "M-Married? Uh... Haven't really thought much of it."

Elsa arched an eyebrow and her mouth turned into a straight line. "You're courting her. Why would you not think about marriage?"

"Well, I need to figure out if I wanna spend the rest of my life with her first, don't I?" he sharply replied. "And... there's - there's no rush, either."

She supposed he was right, but ever since she was very young, her pappa had told her that it was important for the 'people outside' to marry at an early age, given that it led to strong, robust and healthy heirs. "No, certainly not," Elsa sighed. "But since you are both so largely fond of each other, I surely assumed - "

"Yeah, well, I suggest you re-assume."

"No need to get snarky," Elsa shot back, and even Kristoff seemed to catch how little characteristic that sentence sounded.

They both stopped talking, and it was quiet for a couple of minutes.

Elsa fiddled with her book, and Kristoff put his mittens on and off. But after a while, he cleared his throat and broke the silence.

"It's not that I don't - uh, love her. I do!" He stopped.

"I know you do," Elsa replied. "You can take your time. I don't think Anna cares whether you two are married or not. She loves you, too."

Kristoff scowled, as if he'd hoped she would keep the argument going. "I - I can't afford all that right now. I mean - marriage, kids? Nah. Not quite ready for it. Or cut out for it."

"But - you have one of the most important jobs in Arendelle," Elsa said.

"Yeah, so?"

She sighed. "You earn more than most men around here. You can certainly afford a simple wedding, and providing for your family shouldn't be a difficulty, either."

"You're royals!" Kristoff argued. "Compared to you, I'm just a - a simple ice harvester."

"The land would not have drinking water or washing water without you, Kristoff. And yes, Anna and I are royals. Which means: we can pay for the wedding, and we can help you out if there is anything your family may need."

"That's exactly it," he replied, as if he was speaking to a child who'd just understood something he'd tried to explain for half an hour. "I don't want your help. I want to earn my own money, and then pay for everything myself."

Men.

"I understand," Elsa said reluctantly, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip.

"Good." He didn't sound annoyed anymore, and was even smiling a little. Not in triumph, but in relief. Elsa found herself looking at his eyes for no particular reason, and saw that they posessed remarkable, golden flecks in addition to the warm, brown color, making them appear to have an inner flame. A pure, fearless passion.

She'd never noticed that about him before.

"Are you okay?" Kristoff wondered.

"Yes," Elsa said. "If you're hungry, I can ask Bergliot to bring you some food - "

"I already uh - I already ate."

Elsa crossed her arms gently across her chest and smiled a little. "Now, did you?"

Kristoff arched a thick eyebrow. "It's not like I would lie about not eating," he said, slightly jokingly, but still in a dull voice. "And I know you didn't."

"Bergliot?" Elsa raised her hand, as if she was sitting in a class, and waved her maid over. "Please bring Herr Bjorgman something to eat, and also tell Geir to inform my sister that her suitor awaits. Thank you."

Kristoff let out a laugh, and leaned back in his chair, pressing his hands on the back of his head. Elsa wouldn't be surprised if he kicked off his shoes and put his feet on the table. "Never been called Herr before. I almost feel - well, like royalty now."

"People of royalty are usually referred to as 'king', 'queen', 'prince' or 'princess'," Elsa corrected him, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

Kristoff made a sound and shrugged, making the table quiver. "Well, a highly important person, then," he said theatrically.

"You are," Elsa informed him. "You're the 'Official Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer', or have you forgotten?"

He almost looked flattered for a moment, but sniffed. "Don't make me laugh. It's not like you couldn't use your ice magic-power-thing if I happened to... be killed by a nymph, right?"

Elsa narrowed her eyes. "What? Nymph?"

They both flinched when Bergliot, a young, slender woman with her brown hair in a tight bun on the top of her head, entered the room and expertly put three big plates of bread in front of Kristoff. "Here you go, min Herre."

"Thank you." He patted her upper arm and flirtatiously cupped her chin with a mischievous smile, and Bergliot turned and looked at Elsa, entertainingly bewildered.

Elsa found herself snickering. "Don't worry. His hands are clean. Aren't they, Herr Bjorgman?"

"I've lived in the woods for the past twenty-one years. I recently found out what soap is," he grumbled. "Still don't find it necessary, though."

Bergliot seemed less than pleased, and left the room in a hurry.

"You scared her," Elsa said accusingly, but smiling.

"I thanked her."

"You are not supposed to touch the staff, Kristoff," laughed Elsa. "Eat now."

"Aren't you having some?" he wondered, raising a pale eyebrow while shoving the bread down his throat.

"Not today. I'll have something big for lunch," she answered. "Where are you and Anna off to today?" she wasn't able to cover up the obvious jealousy in her voice, and avoided Kristoff's gaze. She had an inevitable desire to leave this castle. If only for a day. She needed it, simply.

"Today she's coming to harvest ice with me," Kristoff said. "It's - uh, completely safe, of course."

"Yeah," Elsa muttered. "Well - "

The door was opened.

Anna was ready to go, wearing her outdoor clothing, and as eager as ever. "I can't wait!" Elsa heard her squeal, as Kristoff and her stormed out. She felt a piercing sting of resent. Why was she so envious of her sister?